A Rose for Dean Winchester
by superbrainiac
Summary: Dean faces a Monster-of-the-Week and gets trapped in a desperate situation where his feelings are at stake. Will he be able the save both Sam and himself from the labyrinth of their lives?


Dean slammed the door behind him. Leaning on the hard wood, he was panting, out of breath. Winding up in a 19th century hotel hallway wasn't exactly his plan.

"A door? Really? In the middle of the freaking purgatory?!"

He had just escaped that God forsaken place with monsters just waiting to thrust their fangs into his flesh or slam an axe somewhere between that noggin of his and the rest of his adorable persona for the second time.

Realizing he had just fled the purgatory to enter the twilight zone, Dean bettered his grip on the demon knife and decided to sniff around the hallway. After a few turns he was back in front of the door he had slammed just a few moments ago, the one with the rose engraving on it. With a highly suspicious face he went for a random doorknob.

Doing that, he walked straight into Bobby's basement bunker, where Sam was twisting in pain. A second was enough for him to grab Sam and try to hold him down, so that he wouldn't scathe himself.

"Sam, stop it! Look, listen, I'm here, look at me!"

Sam remained unresponsive. Dean now remembered the scene he was reliving. Bobby's bunker, Sam beyond anyone's control, screaming in terror – that's exactly what happened at the time Sam was high on demon's blood. However, no matter what he did, it was as if he wasn't even there.

Dean became suspicious of whether the man in front of him was Sam at all, in any sense. It seemed as though each room contained a different scene from his life, and each time he opened a door he would step right into a nightmare. He took a moment to consider the extent to which he was screwed, and then went for the door, glancing once again at "Sam" over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

The hallway he found himself in this time was excruciatingly pink.

"What the hell! Oh, pink, really? Hey, you asshole, yes you, if you are listening now – I'm gonna get you, you son of a bitch! Stick your powers where the sun don't shine. They'll be of no use to you when I get you, you understand?!"

Shouting at the ceiling was ineffective, but understandable. He could end up in the pit next time he opened one of the doors, or find Sam completely destroyed by the memory of the cage, so he needed to make this thing come to him, now.

"Ok, so, what do I remember? I got knocked out after killing the bitch-witch. And I woke up in my worst nightmare. Well, maybe not worst, but second-worst. We missed something."

He started shouting at the ceiling once more: "Ok, don't say I didn't warn you, you cockroach I'll enjoy crushing! Here boy, roachy, roachy!" hoping someone would answer.

The smirk on his face was hiding a rising tide of fear for his brother. He didn't even know whether the Sam in the previous room was Sam, an apparition, a shapeshifter, or the newest invention of the next whackjob standing in the long line of those who wish the Winchesters either dead or completely insane.

Since no one answered his shouting, he knew he had to continue opening doors until he got some answers, even if it killed him.

Opening the next door led him onto a stage. Next to him, in a glittery black dress, wearing long black suede gloves and a tiara, stood a women whose face he couldn't see. A microphone next to him. A tuxedo on him. This can't be good. The thought of himself wearing a tuxedo instilled a slight dose of fear into Dean's blood. The rest of the setting didn't help either, including the heavy violet velvet curtains and the soft pink lighting. As the music started, the woman ordered him to sing. An entire motionless audience stared at him, looking more like mannequins than real people.

"Would if I could lady, but I have no idea what song this is."

She snapped her fingers, still facing away from him. A karaoke machine appeared.

"Why would I sing a stupid song? I want out of this damn place, not sing you serenades."

She obviously had powers there, so she must be either the one running the place or at least be a part of the whole scheme. Cold steel pressed to her throat might make her talk. So Dean rushed towards her, the dagger still in his hand, but she was faster. She stretched out her arm, turning her palm towards him, freezing his body in the middle of the motion, all except his face.

"That's better. My labyrinth, my rules. Now sing!"

The music started again, from the beginning of the song, and she moved the karaoke machine so that Dean could see its screen.

"Why should I do what you say?"

"Because you are frozen and at my mercy. And because I've got Sam."

Sam appeared on the floor next to her, unconscious, with a rose in his teeth, his lips bleeding.

"Sammy! What did you do to him?"

"Oh, the Sleeping Beauty's beauty sleep will last for a couple of hours, if I don't eat him first! He's just sleeping, but if you don't sing, that rose is going to grow thorns, much larger and poisonous. Now sing!"

"You bitch…" Dean murmured, but started singing anyway, though his voice was rough, and his singing skills underdeveloped.

"Lady, I'm your knight in shining armor and I love you…" Dean started singing, and when he finished, she was happy with the performance.

"Bravo, bravo! But I'm not yet done with you, though. Haven't had a man in ages, if you know what I mean. And don't worry about Sam, he is not going anywhere. But we are, sweetie."

He now feared her snapping fingers which made the situation worse for him each time the sounded. This time he ended up tied to a bed, shirtless, in a room full of rose petals and red candles. Not knowing how he could possible get out this situation, Dean felt a lump in his throat.

"Who are you and what do you want from me?" Dean asked in a husky voice.

"Who I am you will find out soon enough. Now I want you, we'll see about later."

She approached the bed and stripped down to her underwear slowly. The image of a handsome man, all tied up and on her bed aroused her. She was a hunter, and this was her prey.

"You wear panties? Why? It's not like you need them or anything, they are nice panties and everything, don't get me wrong…" he tried to stall, but she sat on the bed and hushed him.

"Now, don't be a spoilsport. Try to enjoy, I'm not really that bad. And try not to think about what happens after this is over, will you?"

Though he tried to put up resistance, the restraints were tight, and she could do anything she wanted with him. Her kiss stung. So did her fingers when she started unzipping his pants. They stung his soul. Bad thing happened to him every day, and he was used to it. Hell, purgatory, vampires, demons, gins, it was all a part of his life. But he couldn't accept what was happening to him at that moment. He was not being seduced in any way, natural or supernatural. He was being raped, and his eyes filled with tears.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Room service!"

"What room service, there isn't any room service in my labyrinth!" She rushed for the door, eager to devour the one who dared disturb her now.

As she opened the door, something sent her flying to the opposite wall.

"Honey, I'm home!"

A prideful sphinx walked in. The body of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and the head of a man.

"Cheating on me, are we? But I was only gone for what? 2000 years? I should have married Donnynx, she waited for that lazy idiot until he died, and never complained", said the male sphinx to his knocked out wife.

"And you, worm, what shall I do with you? Finish what she started, maybe?"

He clapped his palms and they were back on the stage, with Dean fully dressed and untied.

"Who… what are you?" asked Dean.

"I'm a sphinx, you stupid little boy. Apparently, my wife was angry at you for killing her pet witch, something about reading poetry together... I just skimmed her mind for info, didn't dig that deep. I guess she was a bit lonely, she wasn't into romance and roses before. And I'm angry at you for fooling around with her!"

"Look pal, bestiality is not really my thing. Your wife was the one…"

"Silence! You are now in my labyrinth with only one way out. Don't try to run or open random rooms, because you will only relive the scenes from the past seasons of your life and die trying to find an exit. And the time you have to solve the puzzle is limited. If you fail, both you and Sam will die. I'll enjoy devouring you."

"What puzzle? Great, Salem was angry that I iced Sabrina, and this guy is angry because his wife tried to rape me. What a day!"

"I'm tired of you, humans. You always need something, want something, ask for something. I was created to be a gatekeeper, the keeper of all sacred, the devourer of humans! Why you even get a chance to get what you want and walk away is beyond me, but rules are rules, I cannot just eat you, which is a pity, by the way. The rules say I have give you a chance to use your mind to survive. The key to going back home is in this room. My wife would have given you a helpful riddle too because she does all by the book, but I won't. Figure it out or die. Now, I'll be back in a minute, just need to get some spices and a napkin."

He vanished, leaving a sand clock behind. Dean got unfrozen instantly, then ran over to Sam and started slapping him.

"Sam! Sam, wake up, dammit! "

The slapping produced no effect.

He had to find a way out, but had no idea where to even begin. Sam was drugged, so no help would come from him. Rummaging the place seemed like a good idea and the only option he had. He started from Sam, checking his pockets and clothes, but there was nothing, not even his cell. Dean then began looking behind the curtains. He found the door and saw an engraved rose just like the one he had seen minutes before on the purgatory door.

"That rose again… There's one on the purgatory door, but not on the door to Bobby's basement, why? A sigil for going in and out? Of course, the bloody rose! "

The clock was using up the last grains of sand. Dean took the bloody rose from Sam's mouth and picked him up. The moment he reached the door, the sphinx started reappearing as the last few grains slid through the clock's throat. Dean slammed the rose against the engraving, the thorns letting a few drops of his blood. He and Sam vanished from the stage and reappeared in their motel room, where Dean placed Sam on one of the beds and slammed himself on the other. His face was flooded with disbelief, which then turned into rage. As soon as Sam woke up, there would be some sphinx-hunting.


End file.
